


The 5 Things George Noticed About Love and the 1 Thing They Didn't

by washingDONE



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Death, M/M, Non-binary Eacker, Romantic Soulmates, i have a hard time writing anything that doesn't end in tragedy so here u go, one less cinnamon roll in the world, spoiler alert somebody dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 02:31:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11198601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/washingDONE/pseuds/washingDONE
Summary: George didn't know much about love to begin with.But he was just beginning to realize how much it hurt.





	The 5 Things George Noticed About Love and the 1 Thing They Didn't

  The first thing that George Eacker noticed about love was how nice it was to look at.

  The club was just getting started, and few people were on the dance floor to begin with. But then the boy was there, swaying his hips ever so slightly to the beat. His eyes were so bright. He stunned George in place, and they found themselves quickly getting lost in that color. So blue that they made the ocean pale in comparison, with little turquoise specks that were only noticeable upon further inspection. Those eyes became even more dazzling when George realized that they were on them.   
  The second thing they noticed about love was the touch. George soon came to love that touch, rough, desperate, and needy. His hands were soft, like velvet, and riddled with calluses. Whether they were stroking his cock or nursing their cheek, George wanted those hands on them. Several nights of casual sex, and George would often end up panting, head tossed back, that name on their lips. _Philip, Philip, Philip_. They would mouth the boy's name over and over, with no real need for saying it out loud.   
  The third thing that George noticed about love was the sound it made. It was kind of nice, in a way. A voice that was soft, boyish, and cute (Philip would throttle them if they dared to call it cute to his face). They were soulmates. The two found out only the morning after their first time together. Philip had walked into the kitchen, wearing nothing but George's T-shirt (it wasn't that bad of a look on him, they had to admit). They had been cooking breakfast with some eggs and frozen bacon that had been found in Philip's near-empty fridge.   
"You look like hell." George commented. Philip looked down at his wrist and up at George with quirked eyebrows.  
"Oh. Cool."   
  That was all. George didn't mind being with Philip (the added perk of being soulmates was cool) as long as he got to hear that voice a little more.   
  The fourth thing that George noticed about love was its shape. George didn't like to throw around the phrase "mind over body" all that much because, in reality, they would be able to settle with either. Or both.   
  Philip was both, sort of. There was no doubt that he had a brilliant mind. George had flipped through a few of Philip's poems and, as melodramatic as they were, they had a soul, and dozens of different meanings.   
  But George would be lying if they said that they preferred Philip's mind his body. Which would've been bad if it weren't for the fact that Philip had the same thoughts for George.   
  It wasn't that tough to fall in love with Philip's body before even having a single conversation. Curvy, feminine, and hot damn did he look good in a lingerie. George would sometimes spend tiny eternities before and after sex admiring Philip's body, tracing the nooks and crannies and dips in Philip's body with one hand, gliding across the millions of tiny freckles that painted his body.   
  The fifth thing that George noticed about love was just how addictive it actually was. The transition was slow, but went all too fast for George. He just looked at Philip and came to the sudden realization.   
_Fuck, I love him._  
  From then on, the thought became unavoidable. Before they fell into their usual sleep routine, George would spend a few minutes staring at Philip before they fell asleep. George stared for a few seconds too long sometimes, and Philip would usually notice and giggle a bit.   
  God, did George love that giggle. Every time they heard it, it felt like vengeful murder hawks were rattling around in their rib cage, pounding on his chest. Fuck butterflies.  
  There was no doubt about it. George was utterly in love with every aspect of Philip. Utterly in love with the way he bit his lip when deep in thought, with the way he squeaked adorably whenever George grabbed him from behind for an unexpected embrace, with the way Philip would do anything.   
Everything they did together felt so right, like it was meant to happen. George felt uneasy doing anything unless Philip was beside him, and the same went for Philip.   
Which made him even harder for George to lose.  
  The one thing that George Eacker failed to notice about love was how easy it was to lose.  
When Philip whispered to George one night that he would die for them, they had no idea how honest he was being.   
George still remembered every minute of it. They had still remembered.  
Philip was smiling  
George would give anything to see that smile one more time.   
  Philip's health started declining. He got colds more often, woke up at 2AM in a coughing fit every day, and started having trouble breathing.  
  George thought it was a simple stomach bug. A virus, easily fixable. Just wait it out and try to ease the pain, they thought.  
It wasn't easily fixable. But George failed to notice that. It got worse, and George had to take weeks off of work to take care of their beloved. Their boss threatened to fire him. They didn't care.   
  Eventually, George had to go to work. Philip was hospitalized after he couldn't even get out of bed.   
  Weeks passed by. It only got worse. When George visited the hospital, the sight of Philip, plugged up with tubes and looking as though he were on his last breath, never failed to scare them. Their soulmate, their closest confidante, their Philip was breaking, and George could do nothing.  
  But Philip was still beautiful, even in this state. George made sure to remind him of this every day. The weeks passed by, and George could only watch helplessly as the love of their life slipped away.   
  The big day finally came. George wanted to be with Philip for his final moments, but Philip insisted on honoring the holiday.   
"We can't just shirk tradition," The pleading look in his eyes was enough for them.   
  They arranged for a few close friends to come to the cramped hospital room, all dressed in suits and gowns. Philip looked dashing in the dress that he had picked out so long ago. George held a bouquet of roses with shaky hands.  
  After some time, they were left alone together. George placed a soft kiss on Philip's lips.   
"I now pronounce us husband and husband," Philip whispered hoarsely, looking fragile and frail.   
"We're married, Pip." They whispered softly, tears running down his cheeks.   
"We are, aren't we?"   
"You love me, don't you, Philip?"   
"More than you can imagine, George. More than you..."  
Philip's grip on George's hand loosened. Eyelids fluttered shut.   
He looked as though he were settling down for a peaceful rest.   
In a way, he was. 

**Author's Note:**

> well that took a turn  
> hope ya liked it  
> go talk to me on tumblr, it's the-devil-wears-purple


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